The Divine Hunter

The morning of November 13, 1261.

A rainstorm came unexpectedly.

The wind whistled, and endless silver threads fell from the gloomy sky, covering the entire Nuocheng.

Wearing a wide black leather cloak, two figures, one tall and one short, shuttled through the water-filled street.

If you get closer to observe, you will find that the rain that falls on the two people is all bounced off by an invisible film, and a faint yellow light flashes and flows.

ten minutes later.

The two came from the civilian area in the southeast of Nuocheng to the north of Nuocheng, outside a solemn and quiet courtyard.

A thick cotton armor, wearing a long sword on the waist, leaned against the eaves to shelter from the rain and the guard reached out and stopped the two.

"Who are you and what do you want to do?!"

The man in the cloak lifted his hood, revealing a young and handsome face with dark golden pupils.

"Roy and Leto, the snake demon hunters, had an appointment with Butler Boggart at the Vanilla Hotel yesterday, and came to visit today."

The doorman with a face full of flesh took the business card inlaid with gold, squinted cross-eyed, looked up and down the two, and searched repeatedly to make sure that he did not carry any deadly weapons or dangerous props.

That knocked on the door.

"Caz—"

Two heavily armed guards opened the door, beckoned, and led the witcher down a neat bluestone road.

Out of the corner of Roy's eyes, he glanced at the surrounding walls - solid and tall.

In the sentry tower above the high wall, there is also a guard in a raincoat with a crossbow on guard.

When his attention was put in front of him, Anjin's pupils quietly became deep.

In the spacious courtyard, in addition to the flower beds, most of them are armed men dressed in a variety of strange ways, wearing cotton armor, chain armor, even bare chests and hairy legs and wearing turbans, holding long swords, short swords, and one-handed axes in their hands. Various weapons.

This group of people are all well-trained, one-of-a-kind players. The average melee attribute of about 7 or 8 points is much higher than that of ordinary people, and they all have weapon specialization skills.

Roy roughly counted,

About twenty people, wandering outside the three main buildings on the left, center, and right, gathered under the eaves to shelter from the rain. They looked at the witcher, full of anger and provocation, almost glaring. Two uninvited guests are obviously not welcome.

This should be the aftermath of the last time Ox and Serrit left.

In any case, the security of the entire mansion was beyond the witcher's expectations, no less than any prison for imprisoning criminals.

"The boss of the Willie Gang is really cautious."

After thinking for a while, Roy was relieved.

As the most prosperous city in the world and one of the biggest leaders, Alphonse owns countless gray industries and involves a dense chain of interests. Many people rely on him to live, but more want to eat their flesh and blood, or replace them.

He must be vigilant at all times and maintain his own safety, even at home.

While the two continued to observe the distribution of personnel in the manor, they obediently followed the guide all the way to the outside of a delicate three-story villa with red bricks and green tiles in the center.

A gloomy, well-dressed middle-aged man walked out.

"Since the two masters are willing to come to the manor, they must have made the most sensible decision." Poggart grinned, stretched out his withered palm, and shook hands with the two of them affectionately, "Welcome to join the Willy Gang. Family, wait for the underground fighting competition to start in a few days, and the two of you win the fist of anger, and I will let you understand what heaven is!"

As he spoke, he stretched out his hand and drew it in. The witcher took off his cloak and handed it to the servant, and entered a splendid and luxurious place.

The soft, tough and brightly colored carpets underfoot are so comfortable that people can't help but want to take off their shoes and socks and step on them with bare feet.

A look up.

The crystal magic lamp on the ceiling sheds a warm yellow brilliance, illuminating the walls covered with delicate patterns on all sides. Or portraiture.

It's all well-framed poetry, including a masterpiece by the famous poet Dandelion--

"Love's Dilemma"

"Moon Age"

And a few less elegant, grotesque poems—

Who is there, "moo", "chirp", "wang", "ah"?

The selfless cow is called "Moo,"

The naughty monkey is called "Ji\

,"The loyal yellow dog is called "Wang\

,"Beautiful man, wake up spring in my bed!

—"The Cries," Alphonse Wiley. "

Roy's eyelids jumped and he forcibly retracted his gaze. The corners of his mouth twitched imperceptibly on the face of the bald man Gu Jingbubo.

"What is this so-called, the more you lack, the more you yearn for?"

Even though he has no artistic cell at all, he regularly holds gatherings of poetry lovers and is arty.

Absolutely true love!

In addition to the framed poems, in the corridors under the spiral escalator, next to the heavily armed guards, there are also expensive artworks, such as ornate plate armor on wooden shelves, rare ancient books in glass cabinets. All show Alphonse Willie, amazing wealth.

...

The butler led the two to the office on the far right on the first floor, and assigned a servant to light the fireplace, make two cups of steaming tea, and sit across from the square table.

"Two masters, let's not talk nonsense. I will now introduce the rules of the underground fighting competition in detail, as well as the butchers, collectors, and the elite soldiers under the King of Beggars. What are their strengths and weaknesses?" Poggart said solemnly. , "In order to ensure that the game is foolproof! These preparations are indispensable."

"Wait a moment..." Roy and Leto exchanged glances and retorted according to the plan, "Butler Boggart, I have some suggestions about the commission's remuneration..."

"Oh," Poggart's face changed, his hands propped up on the desk, leaning forward in an oppressive posture, "Tell me, if it's not too much, I can agree for the boss."

"Sorry, my suggestion is about personal sex. It's really hard to say." Roy pursed his lips and looked embarrassed. "You must talk to Boss Alphonse face to face."

"This is the least respect. If it doesn't work, this cooperation will be abandoned."

Poggart leaned back on the wicker chair, rubbing his chin for a moment.

"This request, I have to ask the boss again for instructions. Besides, even if he agrees..." He glanced at the silent bald man, "Master Leto also has to stay."

"You can only be alone!"

Poggart thought, an unarmed young witcher, surrounded by many, can't make any waves.

Roy responded happily. Five minutes later, he followed the housekeeper and left the central building, entered the house on the left, and went straight to the third floor.

While going up the spiral escalator, Roy vaguely heard a heavy gasp and a woman's scream, coming from a house on the second floor.

When he walked to the room in the center of the third floor, the screams turned into wailing, faint wailing, who was suffering?

The witcher frowned.

"I made you laugh, Master..." Poggart noticed the change in his expression, "Young Master is young, more willful, and occasionally overly playful, don't worry about it."

"Kaz—" the door opened,

Dim light illuminated a richly decorated room.

A figure sitting on a swivel chair with his back to the witcher came into view.

Beside him, there are five soldiers, a warlock.